


Dire Straits (?)

by safarikalamari



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Affection, Canon Universe, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Meet the Family, One Shot, Slice of Life, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25408102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safarikalamari/pseuds/safarikalamari
Summary: Jaskier misses Geralt this particular winter season and goes searching for him, in turn meeting two witchers that know Geralt better than Jaskier could ever imagine.Now to get his leg out of this bear trap...
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 16
Kudos: 375





	Dire Straits (?)

Geralt is gone for the winter. 

It isn’t unusual by any means. Jaskier has gotten used to their autumn departures and the lonely trek back to Oxenfurt. By spring, Geralt will track him down and then it will be as if they had never been apart. 

Over the years, their friendship–or whatever it is they’ve settled into now–had changed in unexpected ways. In the beginning, Jaskier didn’t know what he was to Geralt or why the man tolerated him at all. Soon enough, he learned Geralt’s way of affection, to show how he cared. It was rather endearing, the little gifts he’d leave for Jaskier, the extra helpings of food Jaskier pretended not to notice on his plate. Jaskier gained the courage to curl up next to Geralt as they slept, sit next to him with their sides touching in busy taverns. Sometimes, they went so far as to hold hands, lips brushing against a cheek. 

Jaskier had been tempted to ask Geralt what they were one time or another, but found the words dying in his mouth as soon as the thought crossed his mind. 

What they are is perfect. 

Labels aren’t needed, nor a confirmation that is already there in locked gazes and lingering touches. 

So, when he and Geralt go their usual ways, Jaskier thinks little of it. 

It’s a busy night in a tavern when a wave of loneliness sneaks up on him, gnawing away at his mind by the minute. He misses Geralt. He wants to be with him always, to not have this separation during the winter. If it’s Jaskier’s safety that Geralt is worried about, Jaskier is ready to argue his case. It’s just the matter of finding him. 

Jaskier never thought to ask Geralt where he was going, but now he wishes he had. 

Following rumors of townsfolk and vague descriptions Geralt had been willing to share, Jaskier finds himself off any path, trudging through a light blanket of snow. He keeps his eyes peeled for any signs of a witcher’s shelter, and more so, any signs of life.

The forest is quiet, his footsteps too loud in his ears. Jaskier doesn’t dare breathe–any little thing could bring attention to himself. Each step is heavier than the last, the snow crunching underfoot as if warning him to turn back. However, where that is has become lost amongst the trees. 

The panic rises in Jaskier’s chest and he turns in his spot, the forest caving in on him. There’s nowhere to run and he takes a step back as he stares up at the treetops. 

All of a sudden, his leg is on fire, there is a sickening crack of bone and Jaskier crashes to the ground, screaming. Wave after waves of twisting, burning pain shoots through is body with no end in sight. Jaskier claws at the ground, tears running down his face as his leg becomes immobilized. The slightest movement causes a pain so fierce Jaskier almost blacks out. He sobs into the ground, unable to think past the agony he is in. 

He almost misses the approaching voices until a harsh grunt hits his ears and he whips his head up. Fear rises in his chest as two large figures approach him, their faces barely visible through his tears. 

“Look at what you’ve done, Lambert,” one man scolds before he crouches down besides Jaskier. “We’re going to get you out. Stay calm.”

That’s easier said than done and Jaskier shifts under the other man’s glare, a choked cry leaving him.

“He shouldn’t have been walking around here.”

“That’s not an excuse. Vesemir told you not to use these traps anymore,” the first man bites back. 

Turning his attention back to Jaskier, the man places a gentle hand on Jaskier’s shoulder. He is concerned, eyebrows furrowed as he glances from Jaskier’s face to his leg, caught in a steel trap with pointed teeth. Jaskier’s cries have subsided to small hiccups, but his tears continue their steady flow, anxiety clawing at his mind.

“I’m afraid we have to make the pain worse before we can make it better,” he begins. “But I promise we’ll do all that we can to help you heal.”

Jaskier trusts this man and it’s then he notices the eyes, so much like Geralt’s. Hastily wiping his tears away, he glances at the other man to see if his face holds the same story. A sharp gaze is his answer and Jaskier purses his lips. 

“Who are you?” he manages, his voice trembling.

The men exchange a look before the first one answers. “Witchers.”

“I...I figured that,” Jaskier admits. “What are your names?”

The first man stops just before the trap and gives Jaskier a frown. There’s a question on his lips, but with the predicament at hand, he seems to think better of asking it. 

“I’m Eskel. The one who got you into this mess is Lambert. Who are you?”

The names don’t ring any bells, but Jaskier is comfortable in the presence of witchers, whoever they may be. His breathing evens out and he takes to laying his head on top of his hands.

“Jaskier,” he swallows, bracing himself for the next round of pain. 

“...Geralt’s Jaskier?” Eskel asks pensively. 

Jaskier freezes at this and turns to Eskel, who stares back with the same wide-eyed expression. “You know Geralt?”

“Well, yes,” Eskel nods. “He’s our brother.” 

He motions between Lambert and himself. Lambert’s face is still unreadable but his arms have dropped and he’s taken one step closer to Jaskier. Jaskier laughs, his hazy mind throwing him in all directions. This really is just his luck. 

“All right, sunshine,” Lambert growls, hand on Jaskier’s leg. “Let’s get you free and then we’ll talk.”

Jaskier isn’t given any warning, but it’s all for the best as Eskel pulls apart the trap, freeing Jaskier’s leg. Jaskier whimpers as his leg is jostled around, Lambert fixing a tourniquet of ratty cloth around his leg. A makeshift splint is added to the mix as well, but Jaskier hardly registers a thing until he finds himself in Eskel’s arms. 

“Oh, you don’t have to–” Jaskier begins out of habit but Lambert’s hardened stare shuts him up. 

“I would’ve made you walk. It doesn’t look that bad.”

“Come off it, Lambert,” Eskel rolls his eyes. “You forget we’re dealing with a human here.”

Lambert only offers a disgruntled shrug in return but keeps his eye on Jaskier as the three make their way through the forest. With the pain starting to numb, Jaskier is able to sort through some of his thoughts. 

“Do you know where Geralt is?” he asks, a small spring of hope growing inside of him. 

“Don’t you know?” Eskel frowns before adding a small, “Of course not. It’s Geralt we’re talking about.”

Shaking his head, Eskel then clears his throat since Lambert appears to have exhausted his part of conversation. 

“We all come back to our keep, Kaer Morhen, during the winter,” Eskel explains. “I guess you could call it a hibernation of sorts.”

“More like the only time of the year we don’t have to deal with the stupidity of humans,” Lambert mutters. 

Eskel gives a small nod of agreement with a sigh. “That too.”

Jaskier mulls this over. Geralt never talked about brothers or anything he got up to during the winter beyond seeking out a familiar keep. Jaskier doesn’t prod when things get personal, Geralt’s business is his own, but with so much of Geralt’s life coming to the surface, Jaskier begins to feel left out. 

As if sensing Jaskier’s change in mood, Eskel begins speaking again. 

“Geralt’s told us all about you. The songs you’ve written him, the adventures you’ve had together...I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t envious.”

Jaskier stares at Eskel then, searching for any signs of joking or exaggeration. When both witchers hold the same serious expression, Jaskier blushes, ducking his head to hide his reddening face. 

“He doesn’t mean to keep his secrets,” Eskel continues on. “Sometimes, he’s just brainless when it comes to what he should actually mention.”

Jaskier is no stranger to that, but it still hurts a little that there’s parts of Geralt’s life that he doesn’t know about. 

The walk continues on, Jaskier dozing off several times from exhaustion and to his surprise, the witchers let him be. When there’s a creak, Jaskier snaps his eyes open to see a large wall made of dilapidated stone, but still standing strong. There is little action in the courtyard they step into–or really anywhere at all–and Jaskier frowns. Again, he’s met with too much silence until Lambert decides to break it. 

“Geralt, get down here!” he shouts, making Jaskier jump a little. 

Eskel scowls but the two witchers don’t have a chance to move forward as Geralt charges out from inside the keep, ready to tell Lambert off. Then, his eyes land on Jaskier and Geralt comes to a halt. 

“We’ve seem to have caught a stray,” Eskel uses his head to nod at Jaskier. 

Jaskier purses his lips at this comment, more focused on Geralt’s intense stare. 

“What the hell did you two do to him?” Geralt bites.

“ _I_ did nothing,” Eskel immediately defends himself. “It’s Lambert and his blasted traps.”

Geralt snaps his head to Lambert who holds his arms out. 

“What? Is there a law against traps?”

With only a growl as a response, Geralt reaches out for Jaskier and Jaskier finds himself jostled from one set of arms to another. 

“Gentleman, really,” Jaskier waves. “I’m sure I can walk.”

“I’m sure you can’t,” Geralt replies in a muttered breath. “You’re in high spirits.”

“Gave him some…” Eskel makes a motion with his hand and Jaskier frowns. 

He doesn’t remember taking anything. He looks at Geralt for an answer but is met with a sigh before the two head inside. 

“Who wrapped your leg?” Geralt asks. 

“The sullen one. Lambert.”

Geralt nods. “Always keeps some kind of herbal medicine on him. Placed on a wound, it numbs the area for a little while. It’s why you’re...you.”

Jaskier blinks at this before letting out a small laugh. “So you’re saying if he hadn’t given me anything I’d be writhing in pain right now?”

“Yes. However, once I remove the wrappings the pain will come back.”

Having paid no attention to his surroundings, Jaskier is caught off-guard when Geralt sets him down on a bed and begins properly cleaning up his injury. 

The room is small with high ceilings, a fireplace across from the bed. To Jaskier’s left, there is a large set of windows, allowing sunlight to pour in. There are no fancy decorations and what does sit in the room is just enough to make it liveable.

Jaskier doesn’t have time to ponder much more on this as Geralt’s hand on his leg is all the warning he gets before the crude wrappings are removed.

“Fuck!” Jaskier swears as sensation comes back to his leg. 

The tears are unstoppable and Jaskier buries his face into one of the pillows as Geralt removes his breeches and cleans the wound. 

“What were you doing in the forest?” Geralt asks, but it does little to distract Jaskier from the pain.

“Looking for you,” Jaskier says through gritted teeth. 

He sobs as Geralt wraps two splints along his leg and he begs for the pain to stop. The hands on his waist are firm but gentle as he’s guided into a seated position, a pillow cushioning his fragile leg. Geralt presses a bottle to Jaskier’s lips and Jaskier drinks past the bitter taste, wincing as he swallows. A blanket is thrown over him, a washcloth offered for his eyes, before he finally lets out a sigh of relief.

Geralt hasn’t responded to the previous comment and Jaskier decides to ask the question for him, his body starting to relax.

“Why was I looking for you, you ask? Well, I’ve come across a spell of sorts and wouldn’t you know it, one ingredient that’s essential is a strand of Witcher hair.” 

He’s not sure where this lie comes from and blames it on his pain-stricken mind.

“I missed you too, Jaskier.”

Jaskier’s words catch in his throat and he stares at the golden eyes that bore into him. Geralt knows him too well. Jaskier goes to duck his head only for his chin to be caught in Geralt’s grasp. He lets the Witcher pull his face back up, despite the heat that rushes to his cheeks.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you to join me here,” Geralt starts with a low rumble. 

“Why haven’t you?” Jaskier cuts in, noting how Geralt’s hand is now cupping his cheek.

“Nerves, I suppose.”

It’s not a good excuse, but Jaskier accepts it for now. He leans forward, bringing his and Geralt’s faces closer, breathes mingling. Before Jaskier can move any further, Geralt presses their foreheads together, his eyes closing. Jaskier follows Geralt’s movements and the two soak in the feeling of each other, this peaceful moment amongst the chaos. 

“So,” Jaskier breathes at last. “When do I get to see all of the keep?”

Geralt’s eyes snap open and Jaskier can’t help laugh a little. They pull apart, Geralt’s hand trailing down to Jaskier’s shoulder.

“I’m not carrying you around if that’s what you’re suggesting,” he states. 

“You carried me up here,” Jaskier says pointedly. “What’s the difference?”

“I’m not about to become your horse,” Geralt retorts, the corner of his mouth twitching. 

Jaskier has already won the battle and he nuzzles Geralt’s nose with his own as he grins. 

A knock on their door interrupts them and Geralt narrows his eyes as he looks at the closed door over his shoulder. 

“How’s Jaskier?” Eskel’s muffled voice comes from the other side. 

Geralt sighs as he turns back to Jaskier. “You’ve got guests.”

“Oh, please let them in,” Jaskier smiles, excitement bubbling in his chest. 

Now is his chance to get to know the other people in Geralt’s life and questions already buzz through his mind. Geralt quirks a brow but says no more as he gets up to open the door. Eskel and Lambert quickly push pass him, standing on opposite sides of the bed where Jaskier lays. Jaskier stares up at the looming witchers, his gaze fluttering between the two as he takes the opportunity to really study them. 

“Well, where shall we start?” Jaskier asks, his smile growing wider. 

Eskel sits down on the edge of the bed, but even his tentative action still causes the bed to shift and Jaskier bites back a laugh, glancing at Geralt for a moment. Geralt grunts, mumbling something to himself as he crosses his arms, watching his brothers closely. 

“Did you and Geralt really meet in a tavern?” Eskel starts with his own question, one Jaskier is more than happy to indulge in. 

Lambert is slow to relax, but his eyes never leave Eskel and Jaskier as they converse. When Lambert finally tries to say something, Jaskier whips his head towards him, eyes bright and curious. 

“Yes, Lambert?” Jaskier tilts his head, his smile unwavering. 

Lambert goes still before he shakes his head and looks away from Jaskier. There is a look exchanged between Jaskier and Geralt, the faintest trace of an amused smile on Geralt’s face. Reaching out for Lambert, Jaskier pulls him down onto the bed, earning him a grunt of surprise. 

“Don’t be a stranger, Lambert,” Jaskier teases. “And, Geralt, there’s still some space on the bed if you wish to join us. Perhaps correct some of my details.”

Jaskier winks at Geralt, pride surging in his chest as Geralt marches over to the bed and practically pushes Lambert and Eskel out of the way to sit behind Jaskier. Once the two are comfortable, Lambert and Eskel sit back on the bed, unsure of where to go from here. 

“What was Geralt like as a child?” Jaskier breaks the stalemate. 

He can practically feel Geralt’s eyeroll and this time, it’s Lambert who speaks up. Relaxing in Geralt’s hold, Jaskier takes in every story, laughing with the jokes, offering a sympathetic hand at the somber details. Though he’s just met Lambert and Eskel, he can sense the bond between the three witchers, their loyalty and trust in each other. It’s truly unbreakable and he’s thankful Geralt has these men in his life. Jaskier hopes in time, they can be part of his. 

When yet another rough knock on the door catches everyone’s attention, it’s then Jaskier gets to meet Vesemir, who gives Jaskier a wary eye. Jaskier can only sheepishly smile back as Eskel explains the situation, reminding Jaskier he indeed has a broken leg. 

“Keep an eye on these three. They’re trouble,” Vesemir says before he leaves the room and Jaskier laughs. 

Geralt has always been his home, but now Jaskier finds he wants to make this place, his comfort with these men, a home as well. The immediate acceptance and care means the world to Jaskier and he wants to repay the favor.

Tangling one of Geralt’s hands in his own, Jaskier breathes in the warmth, ready for a winter safe in a witcher’s keep.

**Author's Note:**

> so what i found out in my research is that a bear trap can definitely break a leg so that's what jaskier's body has to heal for the next few months....
> 
> [Tungle](http://fromkaermorhentolettenhove.tumblr.com)


End file.
